


Taken: Vagabond Edition

by AxialVagabond



Series: Axial's Dabbles [7]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, No one does don’t worry, Psychological Torture, Torture, its just angsty, maybe I’ll continue it in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxialVagabond/pseuds/AxialVagabond
Summary: Interaction with his past recalls memories that Ryan just doesn't want to remember.





	Taken: Vagabond Edition

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt filled on my tumblr! I hope you enjoy! I might make a second chapter?

The four of them were tied at the hip. The crew was attached at the hip, but Michael, Gavin, Jeremy, and Ryan were  _ seriously _ attached at the hip. Battle Buddies and Team Nice Dynamite as separate entities were the power couple of the criminal world, but the four of them…that was just a recipe for disaster. Gavin, Jeremy, and Michael’s love for destruction, coupled with Ryan’s love for bloodshed and violence, created something the city feared. They were often called the Four Horsemen. Geoff and Jack could barely control them when they got going. Jeremy and Ryan were often together on the stealth missions that needed to be done, both extremely competent when it came to military styled work, whereas Michael and Gavin were more just reckless and had an astronomical amount of luck. Together though, they were meticulous and seemed to work as one person.

The city quickly learned to not fuck with the four. No one wanted the Fakes on their ass, let alone the scariest of the four coming after them. And they  _ definitely _ didn’t want the most reckless of the crew coming after what was theirs. A lot of enemies went after Gavin, and sometimes Michael. They always believed they were the weakest links after all. But the attacks quieted down after Jeremy and Ryan got their hands on the kidnappers and splayed their remains for all to see. And the first time Jeremy got taken, it was a field day for Michael and Ryan, playing in the blood and making sure everyone knew to not take their lovers.

And it seemed to work, no one came at them for years. Sure, they had their gang wars and had to deal with turf arguments and shit a like. And of course the boys got hurt and bruised up and beaten down. But one of their own being caught and tortured? That hadn’t been heard of for an incredibly long time. Obviously they were careful still, never taking unnecessary actions. The four had even calmed down some. Especially after a time where a rival gang took Gavin and he disappeared for months from the trauma. They were cautious, sometimes unnecessarily so. It became kind of a joke to them sometimes. Being caught and tortured? A joke!

But on one specific heist they got a scare. At first, they assumed it was just Ryan being his Vagabond self and disappearing after a heist to cause more mayhem. That he would come home eventually to cuddle his boys, despite them whinging about him  _ still _ being covered in blood and guts. But when there were no news reports and nothing on the police wire about the Vagabond fucking around, the men got worried. Ryan never just went quiet after a heist unless he was with his boys, and he always told the others when he needed quiet. But to just disappear was almost unheard of from the man that hid behind a mask.

So, they tried his phones, his coms, and even went to his private apartment, but Ryan was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t answering and he wasn’t even letting Gavin know anything in the special ways Gavin has developed for him.  And that’s when they started to panic, Ryan disappearing on them was serious. And sure, Geoff and Jack were concerned but Michael, Jeremy and Gavin were even worse. They were nearly distraught. Gavin was pushing himself, looking at video feed and through the wire, hoping to find something, even if a sliver of something. But there was nothing. For  _ days _ there was nothing. No contact, no signals, nothing. The lads were terrified to say the least. Jeremy wouldn’t even come out of Ryan’s room. Jeremy was the worst affected by the disappearance, the lad was newest to the relationship and from what Gavin had hinted at, was the closest with Ryan.

But then suddenly they got a call. Some man on the line, his voice smug and dripping with confidence. He claimed he had the Vagabond and demanded retribution for some bullshit incident, that quite honestly none of the Fakes believed happened. But then Ryan’s voice came over the phone, broken and scared. Ryan told them to not come for him, to not get involved, and that it’d be okay. Jeremy started crying when he heard the plea. He immediately took the phone and sobbed begging Ryan to tell them something, begging him to let them help.

~

Hot.

Silent.

Itchy.

His boys.

_ The Crew _ .

Something dark and thick covered his eyes. Silence echoed around him. He struggled against his binds but they were tight and unforgiving. The wood was harsh and his jacket was gone. He took a deep breath, steeling himself from panicking. He couldn’t tell if it was night or day and couldn’t remember what the last thing he did was. The room seemed to get louder as the seconds ticked by. His thoughts went rampant as he sat there, flipping between the crew and his boys, wondering if he was going ever to see them again. Wondering what the last thing he told them was. Hoping that they’d realise he was missing, that they’d be looking for him.

But as time passed - he gave up counting after 3000 seconds - he could feel himself breathing easier. The fabric around his eyes was giving him a rash, but the more he moved, the worse it became. It must have been wool or something, but was thick, as though it was wrapped around his head twice. When he shifted it felt like the fabric was getting tighter, pressing into his eyes increasingly. The itch distracted him, the itch gave him something to focus on.

As time went on, a drip in the room started. He tensed as it fell on his head, knowing what was coming almost immediately. And just after he realised, water jetted down on top of his head, soaking him to the bone in near frozen water. He groaned softly but didn’t move. Eventually the stream stopped, and a final drip fell after the torrent. He stared into the fabric on his eyes, willing himself to fall into a headspace of some sort.

Water dripped every 20 minutes. Still freezing cold, and as though a faucet was still on. He trembled, but made no sound, refused to let his teeth chatter. He knew this game. He’s played this game. It’s only a matter of time. He could hold out. For his boys of course. He could handle some water - it’ll dry soon, right? It’s not like he hasn’t been tortured before. It’s just water. That’s it, water, at a cold temperature: nothing scary, nothing painful, just cold. Just water.

_ Drip _ .

He swears once they come for him, once they get the stupid wool off his head, once they get the rope off his wrists and ankles. He swears. He swears.

_ Drip _ .

He no longer flinched at the water, forcing himself to expect it. All the people he tortured this way lost their minds trying to expect the water. He wasn’t losing his mind. He wouldn’t ever lose his mind. There were more important things to worry about. Like…like-

_ Drip _ .

What is more important than this fucking drip? Nothing. He’s losing his mind. How long has it been? He just wants to go home. Why is this a torture method, it’s bullshit. Why does water make everything so terrible? It’s pointless. The room isn’t even silent anymore. He wants it to be silent. Why can’t it be silent? He misses the quiet. The dripless quiet.

_ Drip. _

There is a rustle. Faint to a normal ear, but loud to him. Then footsteps. Sounding like some giant, coming to tear him a new one. And then they stop, so distant from him. So far. He can feel it. The eyes. Someone is here after all. Someone is trying to make him insane. Didn’t they know he was already insane?

_ Drip _ .

His boys. He wants to hug his boys, wrap them up in his arms and keep them there. Take their warmth and their kisses and cry. He wants to be home. In the stupid penthouse. With stupid Geoff, whining about every goddamn thing, and Jack mother-henning everyone to the point of insanity. They aren’t even going to notice he’s gone. Thinks he just up and left because that’s what he does. Just leaves. Like some asshole. Who just leaves.

_ Drip. _

His father left. His mother left. No one stays. He thought he could stay. To believe they really wanted him. After everything. The names. The allies and enemies. They all left.  _ He _ left.

_ Drip. _

He didn’t want to die here. He didn’t want to leave them. He loved them. His first family. His first safe place. He wanted to go home.

~

A door opens, and he nearly jumps out of his seat, if he could. The person moved around the room, steps near silent but carrying emotion. Steps that sounded thought out and attempted to be meticulous. The room seemed to grow hotter as they moved around. His eyes following his movements as he listened. They stopped behind him. And then it became silent.

“You always seem to escape death. A new persona every time. Got yourself a crew. Even told them you’ve never worked with a crew. Think you can erase us Haywood? How would your little  _ boyfriends _ feel when they find out who you were, what  _ your _ crew did, especially to wee Gavin. Hmm?” the voice asks.

He sits there, silent. He knew that voice. Why was it so familiar? He made sure no one could find him. His blood ran cold, but it felt as though it was freezing. He was fucked.

“Not even a sound. Come on, what happened to the Mad King? Oh wait, that’s right: you’re, what, the silent devil? What do they call you? The Vagabond? What a stupid fucking name, Ryan. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to find you? What with all your idiotic theatrics?” the man scoffs.

He stays quiet, just listening. The man began walking again. Talking. Like a typical villain in a movie. His footsteps stop abruptly before rushing towards him. The blindfold was yanked off, scratching his eyes and ripping out some hair. The light in the room blinds him but when he could see properly, dark crazed eyes stare back at him.

Edgar stood there, nearly trembling with anger. Long scars, that eerily matched his own, streaked across his face. A jacket rests on the man’s shoulders…was that his jacket? A grin grew on his face, one full of malic and rage.

“You see, Ryan, you really fucked us. Almost got your pretty Queen killed. You just  _ had _ to leave? We ruled that fucking area. We were gods! But no, little Ryan got bored. How could you just leave us! Leave ME!” Edgar shouted.

He blinked but didn’t respond. Edgar was always  _ so _ emotional.

“Answer me, Haywood!” Edgar shouts.

He doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t even blink. Edgar makes a sound close to a growl, and charges at him. His fingers wrapping around his throat, like a vice. His grip tightens as he gets closer, his mouth shifting to a sneer.

“You decided to just leave. You let me get tortured….and then you left.” Edgar whispers, his voice breaking.

“You’ve always gotten too personal Edgar, too emotional. It is going to get you killed.” Ryan says, his voice rough with disuse.

“What, by you? You’ve already killed me! You are the reason we are here today! You told me I was family!” Edgar screams.

“If it has to be me then fine, but your emotions will be your undoing.” Ryan replied, shrugging.

Edgar jerks back, tugging some hair again. He steps backwards and stares incredulously at the man in front of him. Ryan looks up at him, blank and uncaring.

“You really are gone. You’ve replaced us and got rid of yourself.” Edgar murmurs.

“You didn’t really think I was going to just stay forever did you? You all were pansies, whining about everything I asked of you. None of you had the gall to be what I was. And you never will.” Ryan replied.

Edgar stares, mouth agape.

“Now that we’ve had this lovely chat, mind letting me go?” Ryan asks.

“I’m going to kill you.” Edgar vows.

“Really? You could barely choke me. You’re afraid of me. You want me to lead you and teach you. You can’t function without me, and the thought of others having my attention tears you apart. You aren’t going to kill me. You’re going to let me go and pine after what you’ve wanted for years, but never had the balls to do.” Ryan replies smugly.

Edgar blinks, before his face falls. He turns and walks to the door. Opening it, he made sure it was propped open and then dragged a table in.

~

Four hours later Ryan was sure he was dying. The stench of blood filled his nose, and if he was honest, he broke faster than he would’ve liked. Edgar got to him easily, making him think of many mistakes he made in his past. Made him think of all the ways Edgar wanted to hurt his boys. But Edgar also was reckless and far too driven by emotion. He got cocky when Ryan began to cry. He called Geoff from his phone, making sure to gloat about the situation, explain that Ryan has bitched out and fallen apart. He talks about how Ryan was horrible, how he used to own the world and is now paying for his wrongdoings against the Royal Court, against himself, and against Gavin.

But when Edgar shoved the phone in his face, he quickly begged them to not come for him. That they couldn’t see him like this and that he loved them. Jeremy yelled at him on the phone, begging for him to give them something, so they can help him. Ryan felt his heart hurt with how hard Jeremy was crying, how desperately he wanted to comfort him. He whispered a goodbye, and a declaration of love, accepting it would be the last time he would see them. That he was going to die in this room, by a hand he trained. Faintly he heard Jeremy screaming before he felt his world grew dark from loss of blood.

 


End file.
